City of Roland: An Unwind-Osmosis Jones Crossover
by XxAngeliclilkittyxX
Summary: Spoiler alert! Don't continue reading if you have not yet finished Unwind. This is the retelling of Roland's last chapter from Unwind in the Osmosis Jones perspective. How will the city handle their transition into the divided state? I do not own the ideas nor characters originating from Osmosis Jones and Unwind, Osmosis Jones (c) Warner Bros, Unwind (c) Simon & Schuster


Today is it. Today is the day that our efforts to be a united city of Roland will all collapse before our eyes. Well, it's not like it was all that great of a city anyway. It all went downhill after the mayor of Roland decided to try and save our mother. I know he meant well, but it just wasn't worth it. From Ohio to the Graveyard in Arizona, every citizen of Roland strived to keep us all as one unified body. Many were uncertain and profoundly anxious, others entirely hopeless to the point of apoptosis. Then there's the few who are blindly optimistic, in complete denial that escape could actually fail.

Today, as we all look at the eye channel one last time as a unified city, cells hold hands, hug their children, and a plethora of tears are being shed. On the screen, the colorful walls of Happy Jack Harvest Camp aren't fooling anyone. As the city is being escorted towards the doors of what many call the "chop shop," the pulse becomes more rapid, and citizens begin to feel woozy. Just as when each and every cell's attention is glued to the screen, the mayor interrupts the broadcast with a final speech. "Citizens of Roland, as I stand before you all for this final time, I want you to know what an honor it was being your mayor. For the past 15 years, our city has grown, developed, and overcome many great setbacks. Our best example being the day we broke the left arm 5 years ago, today being Shark Memorial. During these past several months, I will not deny that we have made several enemies, especially our competitive rival city of Connor. But alas, our escape, and future of being a more prosperous city are now all but nil. So before the operation begins, I bid you all a last farewell."

On screen, one could see the somber look on the mayor's face. Never has he expressed a genuine feeling of loss like this, for normally he was bold, cunning, and manipulative. He always had an overconfident smirk on his face that reeked of an "alpha male" complex. Only this time, as we pass through the doors into the operating room, the mayor has a teary glisten in his eye which then forms into a droplet and gently rolls down his cheek. He retires to his office where he anxiously awaits Roland's fate. "Turn on the eye channel." He requested, albeit grimly. The screens are on, and all there is to be seen right now are bright lights and a nurse in a yellow mask looking down on us with smiling eyes. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'm here to help you through this, you're being very brave." She said in a soft tone. "I would only hope they would render us unconscious before taking us apart, to save us the pain of witnessing this brutal separation." The mayor hoped out loud.

Outside the body, the nurse picks up some equipment and prepares for the unwinding. She takes a needle and inserts it into Roland's neck. Meanwhile inside the brain, an alarm goes off on the neck's monitor screen indicating a breach in the skin on two sides of the neck. "We have just inserted catheters into carotid artery and jugular vein, and that is the only pain you'll be feeling today." The nurse said. "So this is it, you're putting me under?" Roland asked. "Not at all sweetie, by law we're required to keep you awake during the entire procedure. You have every right to know what's happening to you every step of the way. Right now, your blood is being replaced with an oxygen rich solution which is also an anesthetic." She informed.

In that moment, the mayor looked up at the monitors to see that the connections with some of the body's pain receptors are lost. Meanwhile downtown, the citizens are starting to disappear from the streets as they're being replaced with the neon-green oxygen solution. In the neck, people scream as they're being sucked into the catheters and then into bags which will be sent off to the blood bank. In the brain, more error messages appear on the monitors as the anesthetic reaches more pain receptors. Eventually, all of those connections are lost and Roland's body goes numb. However, the pressure receptors are still active, so sensation is not completely lost. The mayor, his advisers, and the press in the room look at the eye channel, then the monitors, and then the eye channel again. Roland tilts his head forward to observe the surgeons taking an interest in his feet. "Don't pay attention to them sweetie, look at me. I'm here for you." The nurse said. The pressure receptors still active in the feet send an alert to the monitor. "You'll feel a slight tugging sensation, it's nothing to worry about." She said. "Alright, clamp it off." One of the surgeons said. That's when the entire monitor for the feet shut down. At the base of the calf, citizens who didn't get sucked away by the catheters stare out into the open where the surgeons removed the feet. One would think there would be massive, widespread panic in that area, but the cells standing there at the edge of the amputated areas are now nothing more than a herd of deer staring into the ominous, bright abyss.

The surgeons move upward, and Roland no longer dares to look up and see the horrible process of his unwinding. Monitors for the legs shut down, and panic sets in with realization as the unwinding starts to take place downtown. The surgeons close in on the abdomen and arms. As more monitors send more tugging and pressure alerts before going blank, the mayor starts to feel light headed and out of touch. Now that the body is entering a divided state, the process is so overwhelming that it no longer feels as frightening as it does surreal. All of the monitors for the extremities are blacked out, and the surgeons crowd the torso. The monitors for the intestines are next to go. Roland's curiosity overtakes his fear, and thus is forced to look once more to see the surgeons taking his intestines away and then moving on to the stomach and liver. Life starts to flash before Roland's eyes, and that's when the eye channel blocks out the current events taking place and plays memories instead. Outside the body, Roland is talking to the nurse about how he tried to save his mother from being abused by his step-dad, and how it ended up in him being sent off to be unwound. The nurse feeds him honeyed, empty sympathy in an effort to convince him that his parents made the right decision. "I'm afraid we'll have to stop talking soon." She said. "You can't leave me." Roland cried. "Oh I'm not going to leave you, it's just that you won't be able to speak soon." She replied. Roland gave her a worried look. "You're going to feel a tingling sensation in your chest." She informed.

That's when the unwinding no longer felt surreal in the mayor's eyes. It finally, truly dawned on him that Roland is essentially no more. The monitors for the heart and lungs were giving off error signals before finally going offline. There is no longer a downtown Roland. The rib cage is empty except for the remains of buildings and piles of rubble. Not a soul to be found in this once beaming city full of life. The quietness is eerie and disturbing, as if all of New York City vanished with little trace. The only thing to be heard is a faint cry in the distance, the cry of a lonesome survivor before she is taken away along with the ribs to be sold with the other body parts.

"Blink twice if you can hear me." The nurse said. Roland blinks. "You're being very brave." She replies. The eye channel is online again, and the screen shows the surgeons' yellow gloves surrounding Roland's face. The screen flickers, switching between flashbacks and the operation. "You're going to have to stop blinking soon." The nurse informs. "No! Not our eyes." The mayor screeches. After all the city has been through, nothing has made the mayor more outwardly emotional than this. Even when Roland's arm broke and many buildings and lives were lost that day, the mayor kept a firm, objective grip on the situation; firm enough for him to keep a straight, confident face in the midst of disaster. But this is no mere broken arm, this is the collapse of a civilization.

Meanwhile at the eyes, patrons to See World are gaping while the surgeons poke, twist, and pull on the eyes and optic nerves. Panic and disorder are widespread, and the RPD attempts to bring some organization to the situation by evacuating citizens to the cranium. The area is struck by massive bouts of electrical discharge before the power goes out entirely. "Everyone! Head towards the brain! I repeat, head towards the brain!" Shouts an officer. The blood vessels leading towards inside the skull are backed up, and few are lucky enough to make it inside. The eyes are just about to be detached from the body. "Take my baby!" Sobbed a woman trapped in the corneas. A young man who looked to be her husband fought through the crowd with great vigor to try and rescue his baby daughter. But it was too late, the eyes were already placed on a table ready to be bagged and sold to a pending recipient. The man stands at the socket, gazing out as his family is taken away from him.

The eye channel is completely static, but the speakers still work so the mayor can hear what is happening. "Cutting the corpus callosum." One of the surgeons said. "Nice one!" Another surgeon commented. "Well, not like this is brain surgery." The surgeon replied. The others laughed for a brief moment before they continue. The mayor's face grows paler as the unwinding finishes in the brain. "Sir, both sides of the brain have lost connection with each other." Said one of his advisers. The mayor gave him an irritated look "Well that is not so difficult to deduce when the surgeons fucking announce it!" he snapped at the now dumbfounded adviser.

The next to go was the left temporal lobe, and before the surgeon could make another move on the cortex, another surgeon reminded him to cut the auditory nerves. All the senses in Roland are gone. The mayor's office is dark and powerless. The mayor and his advisors savor these last moments in a torn, violated, dissected body they once called home. The only solace to be found is that none, or at least not the majority of Roland's citizens will actually be dead after this; the law requires that although divided, every piece except the appendix must remain alive. For all the mayor and his advisers know, they will just wake up in another city. No, that's exactly what to expect. But it won't be right. Even if the mayor remains mayor for the rest of his life, or another short term in office in another city, he will always be the mayor of Roland at heart. After today, all of the citizens of Roland will have different places to live, but they will never again have a home.


End file.
